


She Don't Believe Anyone Can Help Her

by xDinahQueenx



Series: 20 Ships [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDinahQueenx/pseuds/xDinahQueenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>She gave him a wan smile... and tried to pretend like she wasn't going slowly insane without the distraction of work. He did not appear to be convinced.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Don't Believe Anyone Can Help Her

**Author's Note:**

> For the 20 Ships Drabble Challenge.

Elle was incredibly startled when, on a weekday afternoon, there was a brisk knock on the door. She stared at the pile of things in the middle of the living room, the half packed boxes, and winced a little as she stood. She certainly wasn't expecting company and she wondered who it was. Still, she felt her heart thud in her chest and she grabbed her gun off of the coffee table. She checked the peep hole and only... slightly relaxed when it was Jason Gideon on the other side of the door. Elle breathed out a sigh and wondered if she should pretend to not be home.  
  
But her car was in the driveway and lying to Jason Gideon, even if it was just by not answering the door, was a very bad idea.  
  
She tucked her gun in the back of her pants and opened the door. She gave him a wan smile... and tried to pretend like she wasn't going slowly insane without the distraction of work. He did not appear to be convinced.  
  
"Hi... I know this is a little... unexpected," Gideon started as he let himself in. Elle wasn't sure why she stepped aside, fingers curling a little against the palms of her hands. "I'm sure you were not expecting anyone."  
  
She watched him look around the house, probably profiling her and she felt herself getting a little indignant, with a tightness in her shoulders that made them feel rounded and slumped. She wanted to yell at him to stop thinking he could figure her out as his gaze slid along walls that were devoid of pictures or even the impression they had been there at all.  
  
"Garcia told me that you had put in for a change of address through the official channels and I was not out of town, I thought that perhaps you wouldn't mind an extra pair of hands." Gideon's voice was guileless. But Elle felt her eyes narrow and she tried to think of what to say to that.  
  
Elle  _could_  use the help; but somehow she wasn't sure she could use  _his_  help. Not that she didn't think that Gideon wouldn't be useful but it felt... weird that he was here. She'd felt strange around him since she'd gotten shot; when she had woken up and Gideon's warm hands were around one of her own. Elle bit her lower lip.  
  
"Oh," Elle said, finally, after several long moments of silence, where Gideon's eyes had not stopped moving. "I guess... well, extra hands are useful." Elle glanced at the pile on the floor.  
  
"We can start in the kitchen, I guess..." She trailed off as she turned. Gideon cleared his throat.  
  
"Do you keep your gun on you all of the time, Elle?" Gideon's question put Elle on edge, for some reason. She bit her lower lip momentarily and quickly drew it from where she'd tucked it into her waistband, shaking her head quickly, short hair bobbing as she did so.  
  
"Ah, no, I just picked it up for... well, just to get out of the way," Elle lied and Gideon didn't call her out on it, but she still prickled a little with discomfort. She knew that he knew that she was lying. Elle stood in the middle of the kitchen, where the dishes from lunch were still on the stove, as well as the half-eaten plate.  
  
"You didn't eat?" Gideon asked. Elle pursed her lips.  
  
"I wasn't hungry." Gideon started clearing dishes off of the stove.  
  
"I'll make you something," Gideon said. Elle opened her mouth. "Don't argue, you'll feel better if you eat." So Elle fell silent as Gideon banged around her kitchen. Eventually she pulled herself up on to the counter, watching him as he moved around her kitchen like he owned it.  
  
"We're not going to get any packing in the kitchen done if you're cooking in here," Elle sounded mildly annoyed, but she wasn't... really. She was actually fairly... pleased to have the company. Even if it was strange that Gideon was cooking her pasta in her kitchen.  
  
"You don't really have real food," Gideon pointed out to her. Elle frowned at him. "Jarred sauces, Elle? That is a crime."  
  
"I..." Elle started.  
  
"It was a joke, Elle, it's alright," Gideon said and he shook his head a little, a small smile playing on his face. Elle felt like  _that_  was a little surreal. But, still, it was definitely better than spending a day alone and packing.  
  
So Elle tried to smile back at him and Gideon turned from the stove, approaching her where she sat on the counter. It was- more surprising, when his hands settled on her knees, and their eyes met.  
  
"I came to make sure you were okay, I'm going to help you move, but I promise Elle, you do not have to do any of this alone. The team is here for you. And I am here for you." Gideon's voice was quiet, but firm, and Elle wasn't sure what to say.  
  
Her breath caught in her throat, heart thudding hard in her chest once more, and for a moment- time stood still as she heard something breaking. Something had to give; despite the psychological evaluations she was forced in to doing, she hadn't really healed at all. She hadn't really dealt with the violation she'd endured.  
  
It was sudden, the way she threw her arms around Gideon's neck. Everything was still so close and she sobbed against his neck as his arms came around her.  
  
"It's alright," Gideon's voice was quiet, warm, murmured words into her ear. "You're not alone, Elle. I promise."


End file.
